


on eggshells

by noyabeans (snowdrops)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, Swearing, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/noyabeans
Summary: A subway station, an accidental encounter, and two paths that were parted cross once again.If it were Yaku that he's just seen, it means nothing. They're two strangers passing in a crowd of people. That's all. It's not unheard of. Tokyo is big, but hardly big enough.It doesn't mean anything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _why is it that when people are young  
>  we must hurt the ones we love the most?_
> 
> for M, even though you'll never read this. 
> 
> to the mistakes that we made, to the years that have passed, and to the scars that have faded but never disappeared.

Tetsurou first sees him in the subway station at Akihabara. It's a Saturday afternoon, and he's on the way home from shopping for a birthday present for Bo when he catches a fleeting sight of sandy hair out of the corner of his eye, being swept away by the crowd of people making their way out of the station.

It looks like - Tetsurou shakes himself. It's been three years; he’s done keeping a subconscious lookout. Yaku left his life without a backward glance, and if it were Yaku that he's just seen - Tetsurou drags his mind away from where it's threatening to wander into dangerous territory, refusing to let any semblance of hope flare in his chest. If it were Yaku that he's just seen, it means nothing. They're two strangers passing in a crowd of people. That's all. It's not unheard of. Tokyo is big, but hardly big enough.

It doesn't mean anything.

He boards the subway, drops a text to Kenma that reads - _I'm on the way home, let's go grab dinner._

* * *

He almost forgets about it. Between dinners and breakfasts and assignments and practice, there's really not much time nor energy for straying thoughts, and that's more than Tetsurou needs.

But he doesn't get to forget about it, as he discovers one weekend maybe three months after the subway incident. He's out jogging around his neighbourhood, as is routine every weekend when he comes home. His earphones are plugged in, his strides pounding in time to the beat of a rock song, all his focus on the next step he's going to take, when he feels something slam bodily into him right before he turns the bend into the road where Nekoma High sits.

Not something. Someone, he belatedly realises, as he regains his bearings. Someone who looks terrifyingly familiar, almost uncomfortably so.

Yaku looks as shell-shocked as he feels. "Uh,"  Yaku says.

If it were three years back, Tetsurou knows how he would have responded - _Aw, Yakkun, I didn't see you down there!_ \- but three years ago is not today, and Yaku is no longer Yakkun.

He's been staring blankly at Yaku for too long, it seems, because he can feel Yaku begin to shift in discomfort in front of him. Fumbling for something to say, the first thing to come to mind, hot on the heels of _are you okay, did I hurt you_ , is - "I didn't know you were back in Tokyo."

Yaku still looks slightly dazed, but he's gaping. Tetsurou would, too. What kind of opener is that, to someone he's not seen in three years?

"Uh," Yaku says intelligently. "Yeah, now you do."

 _Get a grip_ , Tetsurou tells himself. It's just Yaku. It's not like he's a stranger, or a long lost flam- Yeah, no. It's just Yaku.

Easier said than done, though, when he recovers enough to look at Yaku properly. Yaku's hair has grown out, no longer left to brush the edges of his forehead but now slicked upwards and backwards. He's cut the sides short too, Tetsurou notes. It's a style that suits him, although so unlike the one that Tetsurou's used to seeing on him.

Realising that he's been openly staring, and not-so-subtly checking Yaku out, Tetsurou bites the inside of his cheek before abruptly dragging his eyes back to meet Yaku's. Yaku meets his gaze head-on, as he's always been prone to do. That, at least, Tetsurou is relieved to find, has not changed.

But the weight of the silence between them is growing more oppressive with every moment that neither of them speak. It's stifling, in every way that it's never been with Yaku. He's beginning to think of ways to get away, come up with some weak, bumbling excuse of _oh, I gotta go continue on my run, see you again maybe-_

"How have you been," Yaku interrupts. Even he looks startled at his own question, if the way that he immediately flinches and looks away is anything to go by. 

Tetsurou can't help the way his mind goes blank at the question. "Good" sits instinctive on the tip of his tongue.  
  
He shrugs, hoping it comes off as nonchalant; he's anything but. It feels like something's wrapped a fist around his heart, squeezing tighter with every breath that Tetsurou takes in Yaku's presence. "I'm well," he says, offering what he hopes is a careless grin. And because it's only polite - "What about you?"  
  
The furrow between Yaku's brow deepens minutely before he smiles - and hell, _hell no_ , he's not feeling struck by how Yaku's features immediately soften with the action, hell no he isn't -  
  
"Me too," Yaku says.  
  
Tetsurou's beginning to wonder if this is it: the last time they talk. Maybe Yaku will finally let go of him from his unrelenting grasp, say, "It was nice seeing you, Kuroo. Catch you around." Maybe Yaku will turn and walk away, just like he had, three years ago, leaving Tetsurou standing on a sidewalk, clueless and hurt.  
  
No, not hurt. The time for hurt has long passed. If Yaku were to do that today, all Tetsurou would feel would be - lost.  
  
It's as though a jar of unanswered questions has been forcefully uncapped again, the loudest of all _Why are you here_ , because as far as Kuroo knows, Yaku and Nishinoya were renting an apartment together in Hokkaido. There's no reason for him to be back in Tokyo in the middle of the school year.

Yaku isn't saying that, though. Instead of releasing both of them from this agonising awkwardness stretching between them, he's cast his eyes to the ground. Tetsurou can see him biting the inside of his cheek. It's as though he's struggling to say something. After all, Yaku's never been good with words, always preferring to use actions to convey whatever he wants to say-

"I just- Fuck," Yaku suddenly says, the way he practically spits the word out taking Tetsurou by surprise. "I only-"

Tetsurou stares at him, baffled. Yaku's fists are balled up against his sides, his whole body shaking with the force of his... anger?

"Fuck," Yaku swears again. Teeth clenched and jaw locked, he looks like he's about to punch something. Tetsurou may or may not be that something.

"Hey, Yaku," Tetsurou tries, raising his hands up to stop Yaku from whatever he's about to do next. They're in the middle of a neighbourhood - although there isn't anyone around, Tetsurou would like to avoid being mistaken for getting involved in a fight.

The glare that Yaku levels him is feral. Going against all his instincts telling him this is a stupid and suicidal idea, Tetsurou repeats, "Hey, Yaku. Let's- Let's go to the park? Let's not make a scene here."

Yaku glares, harder this time, but Tetsurou wills his suddenly leaden legs to turn and walk to the park, which is right around the corner. Behind him, the sound of Yaku's footsteps follows close.

It's a place Tetsurou doesn't like coming to too often, because of all the memories that are associated with it. How ironic, then, that he should be here, with the source of all those memories.

The familiarity and foreignness of everything hurts. It gnaws at Tetsurou's heart, a throbbing restlessness he can't shake with every step closer to the park that he takes.

When he reaches the park, he feels the wave of nostalgia literally wash over him. He presses it down, the surge of emotions rising in his chest, and keeps walking, making note to slow down his strides so that Yaku can keep pace.

That's always how it's been, isn't it?

And that's not how it is anymore, but it still is.

The leaves of the foliage around them rustle in the wind. Tetsurou stops in the middle of the path, unsure of where he's going, what he's doing. He's not even sure he had a plan in mind when he first started walking.

Yaku's right next to him when he turns around.

"Yaku?" he asks, voice unintentionally softer than intended. It feels like he's treading on eggshells. It's uncomfortable, feeling this way around Yaku. Yaku's never been someone unpredictable to Tetsurou. Never, well, until _then_.

He doesn't expect the sudden jolt of movement that happens next. Before he even registers it, two hands are tightly fisted in his shirt, the air's been knocked out of his lungs, and Tetsurou's stumbling to find his footing, because Yaku's flung his weight against Tetsurou's body, throwing him off-kilter. If not for the dampness Tetsurou can feel spreading across his chest, he would think that he's dreaming.

Yaku's slight frame shakes with the force of his sobs, and Kuroo hesitates, suddenly unsure where to put his hands. It's too intimate to put them around Yaku, however much he would like to, so he settles for leaving them by his sides stiffly.

What's come over Yaku? Tetsurou's never seen him cry before, besides on the volleyball court, and that he should be crying now after refusing contact for three years... doesn't make sense. It's worrying.

"Hey, Yaku," he says, feeling increasingly awkward with each moment that passes. "What's- What's wrong?" 

There's the sensation of nails digging into his chest, through his tshirt, but Yaku remains quiet, shoulders shuddering as he cries.

 _Fuck it_ , Tetsurou thinks, easing his arms away from his sides so that he can wrap them around Yaku's body.

"I can't help you if you're not telling me anything," he murmurs, keeping his eyes trained on the leaves overhead, wondering what a sight they must make. He doesn't even understand it himself.  

It feels like forever before Yaku loosens his hold. Tetsurou watches as he presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, pulling away to reveal the redness around them.

But Yaku at his weakest is still an infinitely strong force that Tetsurou will never dare reckon against.

He’ll let Yaku talk on his own terms. From experience, Yaku hates to be pushed when he doesn't want to, so there's no point in Tetsurou doing so. Once again, the irony of this observation isn't lost on Tetsurou.

Then Tetsurou's phone pings from where it's secured on his armband.

Glancing at Yaku, who is stoically looking at everything except him, he pulls out his phone to check the message.

_(unknown number)_

_> > hey kuroo-san is morisuke with you? noya here_

Okay, this is unexpected. Did Yaku and Nishinoya get into a fight, and break up, or something? Tetsurou hadn't heard anything about them dating, but this text is making him really wonder. He wouldn't put it past Yaku to come back to Tokyo in search of an escape from Nishinoya if that had happened.

He taps out a quick reply, choosing to forgo any semblance of politeness in favour of getting the answer that Yaku doesn't want to give.

_< < yes, did the two of you get into a fight?????? _

Right as he's about to switch on silent mode and slip the phone back into the holder, it pings twice. What the hell, Nishinoya texts fast.

_> > what_

_> > no_

His phone vibrates in his hand, a third and fourth message from Nishinoya arriving in quick succession, but the messages are choppy and don’t quite much sense to Tetsurou - when he looks up from his phone, Yaku is watching him.

Yaku's worrying at his bottom lip. It looks like he's ready to talk, so Tetsurou puts his phone back into the band; he'll talk to Nishinoya later.

"I..." Yaku says, before the words trail off. He shakes his head and squares his shoulders, before saying, "I wanted to say sorry." 

Tetsurou blinks, hard. "Huh? For what?"

Yaku lets out a bitter bark of laughter.

"I'm- You- That-" Yaku fumbles for the words, frown deepening with every attempt, before he settles on, "Everything."

There's a whoosh of breath as Yaku continues. "I fucked up, Kuroo. I really fucked this up."

What's Yaku talking about? Tetsurou is stumped. This conversation is not going the way he'd expected it to.

Yaku takes another deep shuddering breath. "Everything. This. _Us_. From the moment- from the moment I said no and ran away. I- I mean,"

He smiles weakly, a shadow of what Tetsurou remembers, "I was too chicken to face reality, so I ran and fucked things up. And when I wanted to stop, it was already too late."

His hands have curled back up into fists, gripping at the side of his tshirt as he breaks eye contact and grins self-deprecatingly. "Hell, I'm still running, aren't I? That's all I know to do. That's- Yeah. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, it's all my fault. I'll get go-"

"Wait, no, Yaku," Tetsurou says, grabbing Yaku by the wrist before he can escape. He's trying to make sense of everything that Yaku's trying to say. "Geez, why do you always make things so hard?"

Memory throws him blurry snapshots of an izakaya in the middle of a sweltering June. Yaku had asked him out for dinner, just the two of them, two days before he was due to leave for Hokkaido.

Yaku had been telling him about the house that Nishinoya and him were renting, and about the Hokkaido university's volleyball team. He'd been nervous, Tetsurou remembers, and Tetsurou had told him confidently that he was _Yaku Morisuke_ , nothing would stand in his way. He'd believed it then, and he'd still believe it now - Yaku could have told him he wanted to stand on the moon, and Tetsurou would have believed he could do it; Yaku was that sort of person.

Yaku's frown had eased up a little then, smoothing out into a small smile as he muttered a quiet "Thanks". Tetsurou remembers the way his heart had skipped a beat at the sight, the way he'd bitten his tongue.

That night, they'd walked home together from the izakaya, since they stayed just three streets away from each other. In that dimming light some wild impulse had taken hold of Tetsurou, some irrational fear that Yaku would leave for university and - and what?

_Forget about me._

Tetsurou was rational and logical on most days. But _most days_ weren't two days before they were to be separated by an eight-hour train ride. Most days weren't shrouded with such uncertainty, and so Tetsurou had, without thinking, stopped walking at the junction where they were meant to part ways, forcing Yaku to a halt as well.

The specifics of what exactly he'd said are foggy now, but he remembers regretting his confession the moment he said the words.

On hindsight, Tetsurou wonders what he'd been trying to achieve.

Was it acknowledgement from Yaku he'd been seeking, of the elephant in the room that had haunted them for over a year? The blatant staring between both of them, the exasperated eyerolls from Kenma and the nudges from Kai, and the stubborn refusal on both their parts to say anything despite there being _something_.

Maybe he'd been tired of playing the waiting game. Maybe he'd been scared of the future. Maybe he'd been worried Yaku would replace him.

Three years on, all Tetsurou really remembers of that night is the way Yaku's brows had knitted together, the way his gaze had turned cold.

The way Yaku had stared at him for a moment, before stepping on his toes, hard. "If this is your idea of a joke," Yaku said, "it's not funny in the fucking least."

He'd felt it then, a sensation not unlike being doused with a bucket of freezing water. It'd swept over him like a crashing wave; he'd stood helpless as Yaku had whipped around, quick steps bringing him further and further away from Tetsurou, still standing alone at the junction, Yaku’s name still warm on his lips, the sound still ringing in his ears.

They'd stopped talking then. Even when the team went to the Shinkansen station to send Yaku off, both of them had pointedly not spoken to each other - when Yaku entered the gantry, all he'd done was to give Tetsurou a cursory glance, before turning his back and disappearing into the crowd.

From then on out, it was radio silence from Yaku. It was almost as though their years of friendship had meant nothing, and that was what had hurt Tetsurou the most.

That Yaku had turned, and walked away, as though they had never been friends in the first place. That they’d turned from close friends to strangers overnight, and maybe that was all because Tetsurou hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut.

Right now, with Yaku's eyes boring into his, Tetsurou figures it's about time he says something. The weight of this mess does not lay with Yaku alone, and it’s not fair that Yaku always gets the last word.

"Look, Yaku, sure, you fucked up, but so did I," he says. Yaku is so close to him. Once upon a time, it would have been too close.

Yaku glowers at him then, and Tetsurou sighs. He really wasn't intending to have this conversation like this, if ever. "Look, you're not the only one who fucked things up. Yeah, I was mad when you left. Fucking blown, actually, but I was at fault too.

"I knew you were... nervous. I knew that it was the wrong time to say it, because you were getting ready for Hokkaido, getting ready for everything to change, and you- I think you came to me hoping I would be that one thing that wouldn't change."

He can't help the wry smile that creeps onto his lips.

"But at the time, I dunno, it was just- you know- I didn't want you to go, because I-" Tetsurou stops and chooses his next words carefully. "I thought you'd forget me once you left."

Yaku's wearing an expression of utter disbelief. "You _know_ I wouldn't ha-"

Tetsurou rubs his neck sheepishly. "Tell that to my younger self. I mean, I really liked you-"

"How long?" Yaku interrupts, and Tetsurou feels the heat prickling his ears.

"The whole of third year and then some?" he offers dumbly. This wasn't how Yaku was supposed to find out, but he continues anyway. "I tried... dating a few times, after you left."

Raising his eyes to Yaku, he adds, "Nobody ever quite fit like I’d imagined you would."

Yaku flushes at the comment, but stays silent.

"So I... abandoned the dating game. Drowned myself in schoolwork and training. It worked, for the most part. But I always wondered what would have happened if I'd never confessed to you. If we'd stayed friends."

There's a soft snort from Yaku, and something in Tetsurou's heart twists. It's so familiar, but he's realised over the course of their conversation that this Yaku isn't the same one that he last spoke to three years ago.  
  
"So..." he starts hesitantly, "why are you in Tokyo? Did you break up with Nishinoya?"  
  
Yaku looks stunned. "What- _no_ -"  
  
"Then?"  
  
"I'm not dating Noya, what the heck-"  
  
"Yaku," Tetsurou says. "You're running from the question."  
  
Yaku has the decency to look guilty at being called out. Toeing the ground with his right sneaker, he mutters something that Tetsurou would have missed had they been anywhere else besides the middle of a path in a park.  
  
"I was looking for you."  
  
Tetsurou's sure his eyes are bulging out of his head. He's about to wonder if he's misheard things, when Yaku reluctantly adds, "I was actually on the way to... your house."  
  
Screw that, Tetsurou's got saucers for eyes now. "You could have called?"  
  
Yaku snorts. "And would you have picked up?"  
  
That stops Tetsurou in his tracks. He might have, he might have not. It's hard to say, right now.  
  
Yaku shrugs. "I thought so."  
  
He lapses back into silence for a while, and Tetsurou takes the opportunity to look at him. Now that they're this close, and without that veil of shock from earlier on, he notices the dark rings under Yaku's red eyes, and the crinkles around them. The chapped lips, the slight furrow between his brows, the reflection of light off his slicked-up hair.  
  
Yaku's watching him too, he realises when he pulls his eyes away. Pretending he hasn't been doing anything of the sort, he clears his throat and fixes Yaku with an expectant look.  
  
Yaku rolls his eyes, but he's looking down at his hands again. His fingers are bitten raw, Tetsurou notes with a pang.  
  
"I... I liked you too," he finally says, forcing the words out of his mouth as though they burn him, then chokes on a laugh. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”

There’s a pause before Tetsurou nods, unsure where Yaku is going with this.

"I really did. But on that day, I said no because... I couldn't. It felt like a terrible joke, you know? I mean, I knew you liked me, and I know you knew I liked you too. I thought - I thought we’d never talk about it. That we were just gonna let it _be_ , you know?" His voice hitches on the last word, and the crack sends a splinter through Tetsurou's heart.

"I said no because I really...” Yaku’s voice tapers off awkwardly, his words hanging in the air for a moment, before he continues. “Yeah, you're right, I was scared shitless of change, and a confession, from _you_ of all people, was the one thing I couldn't deal with.

“And," he flicks his eyes up to look at Tetsurou through his lashes, looking oddly shy, "I couldn't bear the thought of dating you for a day and moving eight hours away. It would have been too much. It would've felt like I'd been given the world, only to have it snatched away the next day."

He laughs again, softer. "I regretted it a fuckload, though. Regretted cutting you out, regretted saying no, regretted running away. Ask Noya about it, he's had to deal with me and my regrets for three years.  
  
"I wanted to come back to talk to you last year, actually. During Lev and Shibayama and Inuoka's graduation. But I thought it was too late." The corners of his lips quirking up slightly. "I saw the pictures of you and that girl, so I figured you'd already moved on. That my regrets were too late, and I'd missed it. Fair enough, I guess. I deserved that."  
  
He looks wistfully away, at something in the distance. A young boy on a four-wheel bike and his mother walk by, the latter giving them a curious glance, before Yaku speaks again.

"It's haunted me, the shitty way that I dealt with this. I figured... I wanted to talk to you in person, apologise to you and let us both get over this."

He scratches behind his ear, ducking his head slightly. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Noya got mad at me, because I came back to Tokyo so many times but never spoke to you."  
  
"Speaking of Noya," Tetsurou says, pulling out his phone. He'd all but forgotten that Nishinoya had texted him.  
  
_> > he finally brought himself to meet you, huh_  
_> > he wasn't replying me so i figured sth happened_  
_> > third time's the charm, truly_  
  
"Three times?" Tetsurou asks, flabbergasted. Now that he knows the context of Nishinoya’s messages, everything makes a bit more sense.  
  
Yaku is scarlet. "I chickened out the first two times, okay?"  
  
"You were probably going to chicken out this time too," Tetsurou can't help teasing, past the swirling loudness of his thoughts and the sudden pang in his heart.

 It’s not so much of hearing Yaku say that he returned Tetsurou’s feelings that hurts, it’s - the weight of  _everything_. Everything they could have had, everything they might have had, everything that had been within their grasp, snatched away because of so many things.  
  
Who knows if they’ll ever have a second chance.  
  
Oblivious to his inner monologue, Yaku scowls and gives him a hard shove, the action effectively shifting the whole mood.  
  
"So-"  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"So, we cool?" Tetsurou asks.  
  
Yaku nods, then mutters, "You're not mad?"  
  
"Nope." He'd stopped being mad a long time ago. That they're even here talking now, is beyond what Tetsurou could have ever asked for.  
  
There’s a bit of hope rising in his chest, but Tetsurou doesn't let himself get carried away; this isn't high school and they aren't 18 anymore.  
  
It doesn’t mean it isn’t worth a try, though.  
  
"Wanna go for dinner together? I've- We’ve both missed a lot."  
  
Yaku's smile is almost blinding when he answers. "Sure."  
  
As they walk back out of the park, Tetsurou lets that faint spark of hope continue to blaze. It's not the right time now: they're both not in any state for anything, much less think of getting together, but one day, maybe -

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from [Afterwards](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0igPuDjYUE) by Rene Liu.
> 
> After getting swept away by a crowd of people on a train platform, I originally wanted to write a scene like one of those anime movies (think: five centimetres per second) where the protag and the love interest pass by each other in a crowded train station, just barely missing each other. 
> 
> But... obviously, that wasn't how things played out. One thing led to another, and I ended up using this story to face a personal demon that I'd never dared to confront. While not entirely true to events that happened in reality, it does address the same emotions and thoughts that have haunted me for years. 
> 
> For how short this fic is, it took quite a long time for me to gather the courage to write it. It's easily one of the most painful, most difficult and most personal stories I've ever written, but finishing it has given me a kind of closure from myself that I wouldn't have had otherwise. 
> 
> I gave them an open ending, because I know all too well how my own story ended. 
> 
> Thanks to [Tsucchi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsucchi/pseuds/Tsucchi), J and G for the help!
> 
> A kudos or a comment would be much appreciated.
> 
> [tumblr (rielity)](https://rielity.tumblr.com/) | [twitter (noyabeans)](https://twitter.com/noyabeans)


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